


In Waiting

by zoicite



Category: Hair - MacDermot/Rado/Ragni
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoicite/pseuds/zoicite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crissy's been waiting forever for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Waiting

Crissy dumps the contents of her bag onto her bed in a flurry of panic. She throws the empty bag aside and frantically sifts through it all, searching for one familiar scrap of paper. It’s here, she knows it’s here. She folded it, traced a neat red heart on the tiny square, and tucked it into the bottom of the bag for safe keeping. It was right here.

“Did you have it Wednesday night?” Jeanie asks from her perch on Crissy’s purple chair.

“I don’t know,” Crissy moans. She pushes the papers and pencils and dried bits of flowers off of the bed and watches them fall onto the floor. “It was in here. I know it!”

Jeanie pouts in sympathy. Her brow furrows.

Crissy huffs a little and starts flipping through the pile of stuff in her nightstand. She doesn’t know why she’s bothering to look there at all. She kept it in the bag on purpose. She wanted to keep him with her at all times. She couldn’t bear to be parted from him.

“You need to retrace your steps,” Jeanie says, matter of fact. “You’ll find it if you go through everything you’ve done since the last time you know for sure you had it.”

Crissy collapses dramatically onto the carpet in her room. “I can’t believe this,” she says. “This is the worst day.”

Jeanie reaches into the pocket of her shawl and pulls out a joint. She sniffs it and then waves it toward Crissy, her arm moving in an intricately choreographed dance.

“Maybe this will help you remember,” Jeanie suggests.

Crissy watches Jeanie’s arm dance, watches the joint spiral through the air at the end of Jeanie’s fingertips. Jeanie pushes herself up off the chair, holding her belly and grunting a little with the effort. She stands over Crissy and then reaches out a hand.

“Come on,” Jeanie says. “It’s this room. It’s suffocating you. You’ve gotta get out of here before you’re crushed by these walls, you know?”

Crissy sighs but doesn’t move. She isn’t ready to face the world yet. She’s still mourning.

Jeanie wiggles her fingers. “You just need to clear your head,” she insists. “We’ll figure it out.”

Jeanie tucks the joint behind her ear like the stem of a daisy. Crissy sighs one last time and takes Jeanie’s hand, lets Jeanie pull her up off the floor and follows her out of the bedroom.

John is waiting for them, leaning on the short brick wall that runs along the sidewalk outside of Crissy’s home. John shows up almost every day whether Jeanie’s staying there that night or not.

“Johnny,” Jeanie grins, grabs him in a hug.

John laughs and holds his sister for a long moment. Eventually he releases her, holds her at arms length while he takes her in, eyes passing over her round belly.

“You’re huge,” John whistles, then plucks the joint from behind her ear. He pretends to take a drag and blows a puff of invisible smoke in Crissy’s direction before tucking the joint into the front pocket of his shirt.

“Where are you two going?” he asks.

“Crissy lost Frank’s address,” Jeanie explains.

“Ah,” John nods and Crissy watches the smile slide right off his face. “Frank Mills.” He drapes an arm around Crissy’s shoulders, pulls her in against his body.

He keeps saying it in that same way. _Frank Mills_. Someday she’s going to ask what he means by that, but for now she just wraps her arms around John and kisses his shoulder as they walk toward the bus stop.

**

Jeanie’s parents kicked her out shortly before she realized that she was pregnant. Jeanie wasn’t upset, really. By the time they locked the doors behind her Jeanie didn’t want to be there, was living in the park, on the street, on the floor in Sheila’s apartment, was only going home to New Jersey once a week anyway. They wouldn’t answer the phone when she called to tell them about the pregnancy, brushed John aside and ignored him when he tried to talk to them about it. Jeanie wrote to them, sent the letter from Crissy’s address. Her parents told her she might as well stay in Astoria because she wasn’t ever coming home, especially not now.

That was months ago. Jeanie’s officially been staying at Crissy’s house for the last several weeks. Crissy’s mother isn’t happy about it, but won’t have it any other way either. She’s the one who keeps insisting, who hounds Crissy on the nights when Jeanie decides to stay somewhere else. Crissy’s mother claims that Jeanie is a bad influence on her daughter, keeps telling Crissy that she’s only letting her stay at all because her conscience won’t let her throw Jeanie out in her ‘condition.’

“As soon as he’s born, I’ll be gone,” Jeanie assures Crissy. Jeanie is convinced she’s having a boy. She’s going to name him John for her baby brother (who isn’t much of a baby at all anymore, is actually a month or two older than Crissy). It’s a good name. Crissy likes it and was surprised when Jeanie told her. She kind of assumed she’d have to talk Jeanie out of naming the baby Claude.

The baby’s due in a month or two and Crissy hopes Jeanie doesn’t keep her word. Crissy has two older sisters, sure. Bobbie and Linda. Bobbie is married and lives in the first floor apartment of Crissy’s parents’ home. Bobbie’s husband is in the war and Crissy’s parents are helping out with Bobbie’s four year old daughter. Linda is at school upstate. She has an apartment and a boyfriend and she stays in Ithaca on her breaks. She only comes home for a few days around the holidays and she does she spends most of her time looking down her nose at Crissy.

It’s nice having Jeanie in Linda’s room. She gets along with Jeanie a lot better than she ever got along with Linda. With Linda home, Crissy could be pretty sure she knew exactly how Frank’s address disappeared from her bag.

Secretly Crissy is convinced that her mother likes having Jeanie around too. On the nights that Jeanie stays with Crissy, it means that Crissy is home as well. Most of the time, if Jeanie is off somewhere in the city, Crissy is off too, either with Jeanie or with someone else. At least this way Crissy’s mother figures she’s finally doing something to keep her daughter out of ‘trouble’.

The bus comes and they climb on, all three of them stuffed into two seats. Jeanie sits on John’s lap while he groans and complains, but kisses the back of her shoulder anyway. Crissy leans her head against the window and watches the city as they pass.

**

The bus stops at a red light and a motorcycle pulls up beside them. It’s not him. Crissy knows it’s not him. The rider’s jacket is leather, yeah, but it’s brown and the back of it is blank. His helmet is red and he doesn’t hunch down as much as Frank did.

Crissy isn’t even sure what it is about him. Frank Mills wasn’t sweet like John or even like Claude can be when Claude tries. He wasn’t even that nice. But it felt like his blue eyes burned holes right through to her soul and when his hand brushed hers as she handed him the two dollars, her heart raced.

“I’ll pay you back,” Frank Mills said. “You know I’m good for it, right?”

“How will you find us?” Crissy asks.

“I’m here a lot,” Frank shrugs.

“Oh,” Crissy says and feels her cheeks betray her as a blush creeps in. “Me too.”

“Maybe we should plan a specific time,” Angela pipes in. She’s not happy. They had plans and exactly enough money for dinner and Crissy just handed it away to the first groovy guy with a pretty face that happens to talk to her. Frank Mills doesn’t even look at Angela though, just keeps staring at Crissy, peeling back layer after layer until he’s really looking right at _her_.

“How about I give you my address,” Frank says. He shifts the helmet from one arm to the other.

Crissy swallows and tears her eyes away from him. She searches her bag for a clean scrap of paper and finds the nub of pencil deep in the bottom. The pencil nub is embarrassing, but it’s all she has and she holds it out for Frank. His fingers brush her skin as he takes the paper and pencil. Her heart beats even faster, pounding out the curve of his smile, the curl of his hair.

“Here,” Frank says. “Hold this.” He hands her the helmet and shifts one leg higher on the steps to give himself a surface to write on.

Crissy hugs the helmet to her chest and turns to grin at Angela.

Angela is standing beside Frank’s friend and she’s not smiling. Her arms are folded across her chest. Frank’s friend just looks bored. He twirls a drum stick between his fingers and taps his foot against the sidewalk, waiting.

It’s the most magical moment of Crissy’s entire life.

Crissy turns her attention back to Frank Mills. His eyebrows are dark and long, softly curved. Crissy wants to reach out, run her fingers across them. His hair is pulled back and tied at the back of his neck in a bow. It’s dark and thick and just a little bit wavy. It’s perfect.

She jumps a little when he looks up from his writing to smile at her. Her entire body feels warm and happy. She wants to wrap her arms around him, never let him go.

“Call me sometime,” Frank says as he hands her back the paper. There isn’t even a phone number on it, just an address.

“Yeah,” Crissy sighs. “Okay.”

He stands there staring at her and she stares back and hopes he never ever looks away. She’ll stand here on the street revolving around him like the earth revolves around the sun, gravity pulling her slowly toward him, closer, closer, spinning her in circles.

He laughs. His teeth are white and a little crooked and his eyes disappear into the smile.

“What’s so funny?” Crissy asks.

“Crissy,” Angela hisses. “Give him back his helmet and let’s get out of here, okay?”

Crissy looks down. She’s still gripping the helmet to her chest. She’s holding it so hard that her knuckles are turning white.

“Oh,” Crissy fumbles. She nearly drops it but recovers at the last minute and hands it over to Frank.

“Thanks for the money, honey,” Frank says. He gets on his bike. His silent friend climbs on his own bike, taking a moment to beat on it softly with his sticks.

“I’ll see you around,” Frank says.

And just as they’re about to ride off into the evening, Crissy says, “Wait! I don’t know your name!”

“Frank Mills,” Frank says. He smiles at her one more time and then the helmet’s on his head, hiding his gorgeous face, and before Crissy can think of another excuse, they’re gone.

“Great,” Angela huffs from beside her. “Just great.” But Crissy hardly hears her. Her entire world is humming with Frank Mills.

**

They’re lying under a tree in the park when Jeanie sits up suddenly and says “Angela!”

“What?” John asks. He doesn’t bother to move, just continues to lie there staring at the clouds. He’s used to Jeanie’s outbursts.

“Crissy,” Jeanie says, reaches out to shake Crissy’s shoulder. “Maybe Angela remembers Frank’s address!”

“Come on, Jeanie,” John says. “Crissy wasn’t going to go find him anyway.”

Crissy gasps in protest and slaps John’s leg.

“You don’t know that,” Jeanie scolds. Crissy smiles at John, just a little smug, and reaches for Jeanne’s hand in thanks. Jeanie’s skin is warm and she squeezes Crissy’s hand when she takes it.

“I’ll ask her,” Crissy says, nodding.

Angela won’t help her though. She and Angela fought about Frank Mills as soon as he sped off. Angela hasn’t even spoken to Crissy in a week, but Jeanie’s right. If anyone might have an idea, it’s going to be Angela. Maybe she spoke to Frank’s friend while they were standing there. Maybe Crissy just didn’t notice because she was so focused on Frank’s face, on his pure beauty.

Crissy pulls herself up from her comfortable spot on the grass and scans the group. Dionne is braiding June’s hair. Berger is harassing Claude again, though Claude is laughing and doesn’t look all that bothered when Berger suddenly tackles him, forcing them both to the ground in a pile of flailing limbs. Susannah and Bourle are weaving grass and dandelions into intricate necklaces. Eventually she spots Angela, sitting a ways off on a rock with Lancaster and Action on either side of her.

Crissy sighs and makes her way over there. She climbs over Woof and Six, dodges when Berger’s arm reaches out and tries to grab her ankle, and then she’s clear of them and it’s a straight line of green between her and Angela.

Angela is laughing as Crissy approaches, but when Action looks up, brushes his hair off his forehead and says, “Hey, Crissy. What’s up?” her smile falters a little.

“Hey guys,” Crissy says. She looks down at her shoes. “Angela, can I talk to you?”

Angela shrugs. “I guess.”

“It’s about Frank,” Crissy admits.

“So did he keep his word?” Angela asks. “Did he come back and find you?”

“Well, no,” Crissy says. “I mean, not yet. I – remember how he gave me that address?”

Angela shrugs.

“I kind of lost it and Jeanie thought that maybe you remembered –“

Angela shakes her head like she’s disappointed in Crissy, and Crissy waits there patiently. She doesn’t understand Angela. It was two dollars, that was all. Two dollars and Crissy’s heart and Crissy didn’t know it would cost her a friendship.

“Nevermind,” Crissy says. She turns to go. She shouldn’t have asked anyway. She knew Angela wouldn’t be able to help.

“Crissy,” Angela says. “It was in Brooklyn, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Crissy says. “I think so. Thanks.”

“Good luck,” Lancaster adds as Crissy walks back to her tree.

Jeanie and John watch her stomp across the lawn. Jeanie raises her eyebrows when Crissy hits at the tree with her hand once before turning to lean against it.

“Well?” John asks, eventually. “Did she remember?”

“Nah,” Crissy says. “I knew she wouldn’t.”

“So what now?” John asks.

Now Crissy thinks she should just let him go. Maybe they weren’t meant to be. If they were, she wouldn’t have lost the paper. If they were, he’d be here with her right now. But that’s just Angela talking, and Crissy shakes her head, full of new determination, and says, “I’m going down to the Waverly. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“What are you going to do?” Jeanie asks.

Crissy shrugs. “I’m going to wait.”

She lost his address, so now it’s up to Frank Mills. Frank will just have to find her himself.

**

Frank Mills doesn’t show. Not that day anyway. Crissy doesn’t see anyone she knows at all, not until Jeanie arrives just as it’s getting dark.

“Let’s go home,” she says and reaches out to brush a stray hair from Crissy’s face.

They’re quiet on the ride back to Queens. Crissy rests her head on Jeanie’s shoulder. Jeanie smells like green grass and sunshine and Crissy sighs into her hair.

“Maybe he’ll show up next time,” Jeanie offers.

She could fall asleep here with the hum of the bus and Jeanie’s fingers softly sliding back and forth across the skin of her arm. She thinks maybe she does fall asleep, but it’s only for a moment before the bus lets them off on Hoyt Avenue.

They walk slowly through Crissy’s neighborhood. The night is cool and a little bit crisp and Jeanie rubs at her bare arms. Crissy’s mother left the light on for them. As soon as they’re inside, she calls to them from the living room. The entire family is there, huddled around the television ready to watch the evening news. Bobbie’s chewing her fingernails.

Crissy’s mother waves them over to the couch, impatient, before she says, “Jeanie, honey, I picked up this pamphlet for you.”

The pamphlet is pink and blue and Crissy takes one look at it and rolls her eyes.

”Mom,” she groans.

“Now I know what you’re going to say,” Crissy’s mom starts, which is exactly what Crissy feared. Crissy’s mother keeps hinting, pressing more like, the idea of adoption.

“I just want you to take a look at it,” Crissy’s mother continues. “Just keep it in mind as an _option_. You need to do what’s best for the baby, right?”

“Right,” Jeanie says, looking down at the pamphlet in her hand. “Thanks.”

Crissy bustles her out of the living room as fast as she can.

“I’m so sorry,” Crissy says. “I told her to stop pushing you.”

“Crissy, it’s okay,” Jeanie assures her. “Your mother means well. And she’s better than _my_ mother, right?”

Crissy shrugs. Jeanie kisses her cheek before turning down the hall toward Linda’s room.

It’s early, but when Crissy pulls off her clothes, pulls on a loose t-shirt and pads down the hall to Linda’s bedroom, she finds Jeanie already curled up on the bed.

“It’s my back,” Jeanie explains. “I’m just sore all over.”

Crissy shuts off the light and climbs into the bed beside Jeanie. They talk for a while and after the conversation trails off into comfortable silence, Crissy stares up at the ceiling of her sister’s room. She stares at her ceiling and wonders what Frank’s doing now. Maybe he’s in a band. His friend was obviously a drummer, so maybe Frank sings. Maybe he plays the guitar like George Harrison. Maybe he’s writing a song about her right now.

Crissy smiles and closes her eyes.

**

The following week, she goes home with Claude. They climb the big tree in front of his house. He sneaks her in through his bedroom window and they giggle and shush each other as they get undressed. Claude is always gentle with her, sweet. She wonders how much different it would be if she was here with Frank instead.

Afterward they share a joint, hanging carefully out the window. Claude shows her how to blow the smoke as far away from the bedroom as she can so that his parents don’t notice.

It’s always afterward that Crissy starts thinking about Jeanie, about how much Jeanie would want to be here in Crissy’s place. It ruins the moment a little and when Claude leans in to kiss her, she pulls away.

“Jeanie misses you,” Crissy says. She doesn’t mean to say it. It’s not her business really, but it’s late and these things always just seem to spill out.

Claude stares out the window for a while, then he sighs and says, “I like Jeanie. I really do. But it’d just make it worse for her, you know?”

Crissy shrugs even though she does know. Claude likes Jeanie a lot, he just doesn’t love her. Not like Jeanie loves him anyway. Not like he loves Sheila.

Crissy sits at Claude’s window long after they’ve finished the joint. Claude falls asleep with his head at the foot of the bed, his hair hanging over the edge. Crissy stares down at the sidewalk and imagines Frank finding her here, searching all of Queens until finally he sees her hair shining in the light from Claude’s bedroom. He’ll stop in front of the house, lift his leg high as he clears the bike. He’ll slowly slide the helmet from his head.

His smile will be like the sun.

She’ll glance behind her to make sure that Claude’s still asleep. He isn’t her lover anymore, not now that Frank’s arrived.

“Come with me,” Frank will say and he’ll drop his helmet to the sidewalk, bound across the lawn until he’s scaling the big tree. He reaches for Crissy from his perch on the branch. She takes his hand and he kisses the back of it.

“Wait,” she says. She rushes back into the bedroom. She grabs her bag from the floor beside Claude’s bed, leans over to kiss Claude’s forehead in farewell, and then her hand is in Frank’s again and they’re back on the sidewalk. Her hair flies out behind her as they speed off into the night. They head east, toward the beach. They’ll sleep together in the sand and then they’ll watch the sun rise over New York.

**

“Where were you last night?” Woof asks when Crissy finally finds them on a bench along Central Park West. Beside Woof is Jeanie and on the other side of Jeanie, Berger is sprawled.

“I was looking for you,” Woof adds.

“She went home with Claudio,” Berger answers for her. Berger pretends he doesn’t notice, but he’s always keeping tabs on these things.

“Did he mention me?” Jeanie asks.

Berger laughs at her question, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Nah,” Crissy says. She can’t quite meet Jeanie’s gaze.

Claude used to be sweeter to Jeanie. He still is sometimes, but Claude doesn’t have room for her. Not with Berger and Sheila.

Crissy thinks that if it wasn’t for Berger, Claude might actually be able to love Jeanie. He’d realize that Sheila wasn’t right for him and he’d try to move past her. He’d actually see Jeanie standing there in front of him. He’d see her and he’d want to do something about it.

It doesn’t matter, really. Berger isn’t going anywhere and Claude isn’t going to get over Berger or Sheila unless pushed. Berger is unlikely to do any pushing.

Now Berger runs a big hand through Jeanie’s hair and she leans in to rest her head on his shoulder. Crissy shrugs and sits down on the opposite side of Berger.

“I heard about Frankie,” Berger says. “Bummer.”

“She’ll find him,” Jeanie says.

Woof reaches across Jeanie and Berger, his fingers stretch toward Crissy. She laughs and takes his hand.

“Me and Jeanie are hanging out on the mall today,” Woof says. “Jeanie’s gonna sing.”

Since Jeanie started to show, she’s developed a talent for panhandling. She sits in the park on a bench or some steps or in the grass beneath a large tree. She arranges her dress so that her condition is obvious. And then she sings. Sometimes Crissy will sit and sing with her.

“You should come with us,” Jeanie suggests now.

“Come with us,” Berger repeats as he pushes Crissy and Woof’s joined hands down toward his crotch. His hips thrust up off the bench and bump against Crissy’s wrist.

Crissy laughs and pulls her hand away. She stands from the bench and says, “I can’t. It’s Tuesday.”

“What’s Tuesday?” Woof asks. His hand is still in Berger’s lap, Jeanie trapped between them by the bar of Woof’s arm. Berger thrusts up again into Woof’s palm and Jeanie rolls her eyes, pushes Woof’s hand away.

“I’m going downtown,” Crissy explains.

“To the Waverly,” Jeanie clarifies.

**

The first few weeks she sits alone. The afternoon feels long when she’s waiting at the Waverly. She’s tempted to give up after the second week, but she knows that as soon as she does, that’s when Frank will appear. He’ll be there looking for her and she’ll miss him.

Then on the fourth week Jeanie starts joining her. They sit on the steps of the Waverly and they sing. Jeanie rests her head in Crissy’s lap. Time moves at a normal speed and even though Frank never appears, Crissy’s afternoons feel worthwhile because Jeanie is there with her.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know?” Jeanie says after a while. “That’s not the way these things work.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come with me,” Jeanie says. She holds out her hand to Crissy. Crissy takes it, and with some hesitation about leaving her post, she lets Jeanie pull her down the blocks until they’re standing back where they started the morning. Washington Square Park. Crissy waves to Woof, Dionne, and Lily, sprawled along the edge of the fountain. Berger’s talking to an elderly couple. They smile and nod and look like they’re counting the seconds until they can escape.

“Okay,” Jeanie says. “You don’t have to wait for Frank, see? His heart will lead him right to you. Or your heart will lead you to him. Watch this.”

Jeanie shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. She turns in a circle three times and starts to walk. She turns this way and that and Crissy worries that she’ll trip over a bench or a tree root and fall. Eventually Jeanie turns back toward her, her hands out in front of her, feeling her way. Crissy doesn’t move and Jeanie bumps right into her, her hands feeling Crissy’s shoulders, running over her face, until finally Jeanie identifies her and opens her eyes.

“It won’t work if you jump in the way,” Jeanie says. “Stand back, okay? I’m going to try again.”

Crissy has to step out of Jeanie’s way twice this time. She’s starting to think that they’re going to be standing here all day with Jeanie walking in circles. She’s about to just agree with Jeanie’s theory when she hears a sound over her shoulder and turns to see Claude and Hud approaching. Crissy sighs as they come to stand beside her.

“We’re going uptown. You wanna - what’s she doing?” Hud asks before Crissy can shush him.

Jeanie stops in her tracks and says, “Hud? Don’t talk please.”

Hud opens his mouth to say something else, but Crissy is quick to cover it with her hand. She pushes at Claude and Hud, pushes them into new positions and then moves away from them both. Jeanie turns and comes toward Crissy one more time and when Crissy jumps out of the way, Jeanie keeps walking. Straight into Claude.

“Whoa,” Claude says and holds Jeanie steady.

Jeanie opens her eyes and smiles.

“Claude,” she breathes.

It isn’t the outcome that Jeanie needed at all.

“Okay,” Crissy says. She reaches out to grab Jeanie’s arm, pulls her away from Claude. “Okay, I believe you.”

Jeanie’s not looking at her, but she lets Crissy lead her away and sit her down on a bench.

“I told you,” Jeanie says. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Yeah,” Crissy says. “But I still think I should wait. It’ll just, I don’t know, help things along, right?”

“Oh, Crissy,” Jeanie says, but her eyes are soft and smiling and when Crissy leaves the park and heads back to the Waverly, Jeanie comes to sit beside her.

**

When Jeanie can’t come with her, sometimes she’ll send someone else.

This week Crissy looks up to find John and Lancaster standing on the sidewalk in front of her.

“Jeanie said you’d be here,” John explains. He looks around like he expects Frank to jump out from behind a corner, like he’s just waiting until Crissy isn’t alone before he appears.

Lancaster sits down and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “You want some company?”

“Sure,” Crissy says. She watches as John sighs and then fills in the gap on her other side.

They sit with her for an hour. They talk about Jerry Garcia and Jimi Hendrix. Lancaster pulls an apple from his bag and tosses it to Crissy. It’s perfect, juicy and warm, and Crissy thanks him with a hug.

Every time they hear the loud hum of a motorcycle they all look up to watch it pass and hope that it might be Frank Mills.

It’s the first time Crissy actually almost hopes that Frank _doesn’t_ show up. She isn’t sure why, but she doesn’t want John to meet him. She could see them clashing, could see John getting hurt. And anyway, he’s already set on disliking Frank without knowing anything about him.

Each time they hear the roar of a motorcycle, Crissy swallows a sigh of relief to find that it’s not Frank Mills.

**

Before she met Frank, the best night of Crissy’s life was the night she spent with Jeanie and Claude. It was months and months ago and sometimes Crissy still remembers it like it was yesterday. They were high and the night sky was singing to them and Claude and Jeanie were lying in the grass kissing. Jeanie’s laughter sounded like bells, filling the air. Claude reached for Crissy, pulled her into their embrace, and Jeanie smiled at her, leaned in and kissed her mouth. It was the first time that Jeanie ever kissed her like that and Crissy remembers how soft Jeanie’s mouth was, how warm her hands.

They spent the night piled together on Jeanie’s mattress – she was crashing in a downtown apartment with Susannah and Deborah at the time. Crissy never wanted to wake up. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with her head resting on Claude’s bare chest and her fingers curled into Jeanie’s hair.

Now Crissy sleeps with Claude alone and thinks about how happy Jeanie was on that night. The happiest Crissy has ever seen her.

“Do you think you could love Jeanie if Berger and Sheila weren’t around?” Crissy asks.

“I do love Jeanie,” Claude says. “It isn’t their fault.”

Crissy is going to stop coming home with Claude. She’s promised herself that this is the last time. She likes Claude and they have a good time together, but her heart hurts when it’s over. Every time, her heart hurts. This is the last time.

**

It’s days later and they’re sitting in front of the Waverly. Crissy spent the last hour listing off everything she remembers about Frank Mills, all the little things that make her sure she could love him if she could only find him again.

Now it’s Jeanie’s turn.

“My favorite thing about Claude is his heart,” Jeanie tells Crissy. “It’s enormous and it feels everything, you know? More than most people. I love that about him.”

Crissy nods. She doesn’t really want to talk about Claude. She’s given up on Claude. Anyway, he hasn’t even been around in days. He’s holed up in Flushing doing whatever it is that Claude does when he isn’t hanging around with Berger.

“And his hair,” Jeanie adds with a sigh. “I love his hair.”

A motorcycle roars down an adjacent street but doesn’t come any closer.

They sit there quietly for a while longer. It’s hot, hotter than it should be this time of year, and the sun beats down on them. Crissy wipes sweat from her brow and looks up to see John coming around the corner.

“I thought I might find you two down here,” he says. “Any Frank sightings?”

“Nah,” Jeanie says. “How are you?”

“Berger and Six are getting some people together. We’re going for a swim in the lake. See how long it takes before someone comes and kicks us out. Are you two in?”

“Not me,” Crissy says. Swimming sounds like a perfect way to spend the afternoon, but it’s Tuesday, Frank could turn up any second now.

“You sure?” John asks.

“I don’t think Frank is going to come by today,” Jeanie says. “We’ve been here for hours. Let’s go with them.”

“It’s still early,” Crissy insists. She has a feeling about today. It felt like any other day, but now that they’re trying to pull her away, it feels like it could happen. He’ll be here. The heat is a test, the swimming another. If she leaves now she’ll lose him for good.

“Let’s _go_ , Crissy,” Jeanie says. “You’re sitting here on these steps and the entire world is passing you by and you’re _missing_ it.”

Crissy shakes her head, adamant. “You go. I’m going to wait for him.”

Finally Jeanie gives up, kisses Crissy’s forehead and promises she’ll see her later.

“Here,” Jeanie says, holds out an enclosed fist.

“What is it?” Crissy asks. She holds out her open palm. Jeanie opens her hand to let the contents fall into Crissy’s. She grins while Crissy looks at the pile of change.

“It’s two dollars,” Jeanie explains. “Woof and I’ve been collecting it. I thought you could use it to patch things up with Angela.”

Crissy stares down at the money, then reaches for Jeanie and pulls her into a hug.

“Thanks,” she says. “You’re the best, you know?”

Jeanie smiles. “I know. You coming, Johnny?”

“I’ll catch up in a minute,” John says, leaning back against the steps.

Jeanie shrugs and walks off, leaving Crissy and John alone on the steps of the Waverly.

“What’s so special about Frank Mills anyway?” John asks her.

“He’s just different,” Crissy says. Frank Mills doesn’t fit any mold. Her parents wouldn’t approve of him in a million years. Her friends wouldn’t approve of him either. Angela already thinks she’s crazy to care so much. Jeanie’s starting to think so too. But who is Jeanie to talk? Who is John?

“Why do you care so much?” Crissy asks.

John shrugs. “I just think maybe you could do better, you know?”

“You’ve never even met Frank,” Crissy says.

John shrugs again. He looks sad suddenly and Crissy feels bad. It’s so easy to hurt John.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Nah,” John says and smiles.

When John smiles he looks a lot like Jeanie. His face lights up in that same special way. Crissy can’t help but smile back. He stands and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, rolls on the balls of his feet.

“If you get bored, you know where to find us,” John says.

“Yeah,” Crissy agrees. “Thanks.”

John nods and then leans in, his fingers on her chin to turn her face toward his. He kisses her and it’s soft and so sweet, and more than anything in that moment Crissy just wants John to stay. She wants him to stay or she wants to follow him wherever he goes. But she doesn’t, she lets him leave, and she sits and she waits, and when it gets dark and Crissy finally becomes convinced that today isn’t the day after all, she walks in the direction of Washington Square. She finds Walter there. He tells her everyone is still up by the lake, that he’ll head up there with her if she wants.

She hugs him and when he kisses her, she kisses back. And then she follows him home.

**

Crissy’s mother is waiting for her when she walks into the house the next morning. Crissy tries to slip past her, but her mother grabs her arm, holds her there.

“What?” Crissy asks.

“Jeanie’s upstairs,” her mother says. “She’s been crying for hours. She won’t say anything to me. Please, just go and talk to her. I think it must be the baby.”

Crissy does shake her mother off then, rushes up the stairs taking them two at a time. She bursts into Linda’s room, but it’s empty. She rushes down the hall into her own room and finds Jeanie curled up in her bed.

“What is it?” Crissy gasps, kneeling beside the bed. Her finger’s slide over Jeanie’s damp cheeks, across her wet eyelids. “What happened? Is it the baby?”

Jeanie shakes her head, sniffles into Crissy’s pillow.

“John?” Crissy asks.

“It’s Claude,” Jeanie says, and Crissy breathes a small sigh of relief.

“You’ve gotta try to get over him, Jeanie,” Crissy says gently. “You’ve just gotta.”

“No,” Jeanie says. “It’s not – he’s been drafted.”

“Oh,” Crissy says. She’s not sure what else to say.

**

Crissy dreams about Claude in the war. They’re all there, the entire tribe in battle gear and Jeanie sits in the middle of the scene, screaming with a baby in her arms. Crissy rushes toward her, jumping over bodies slumped against the ground, pushing people out of her way. Berger grabs her around the middle, pulls her away from Jeanie, presses her to the ground while bullets whiz by somewhere over his head. When it gets quiet again she pushes him off of her and picks herself up, lunges the last hundred feet to where Jeanie is hunched. The baby is crying and Jeanie holds him against her breast. Claude’s head is in her lap and he doesn’t look hurt, there’s no blood, but his eyes are closed like he’s sleeping.

“He said he loves me,” Jeanie cries. She hands the baby to Crissy and shakes Claude. “Wake up, baby. Wake up!”

Berger is holding a sword like some sort of medieval knight and he stands over them, his hair curling into his face in damp ringlets.

“He’s okay,” Berger says. “I saved him, right?”

Crissy stares at the baby in her arms. His hair is tiny wisps of blond and his eyes are dark brown like Jeanie’s, like John’s. He’s beautiful and as she watches he stops crying and reaches a tiny hand for her face.

“Whose baby is that?” Berger asks, looking over her shoulder. “Where did it come from?”

“It’s Jeanie’s,” Crissy says. When she looks down at Jeanie, she’s lying against Claude, her mouth open and her eyes glassy.

“No!” Crissy screams. She shoves the baby into Berger’s arms and then she’s on her knees in the mud, her hands hitting at Jeanie’s shoulders, trying to wake her. Jeanie doesn’t move and Crissy screams for help, screams until her voice gets hoarse.

Berger stands there and watches her. The baby has disappeared.

“Do something,” Crissy shouts at him, but he just keeps watching her and she sees in his eyes that he’s not the warrior anymore, that he’s just as terrified as she is.

“Where’s John?” Crissy asks. “Where is he?”

Berger doesn’t respond and Crissy starts screaming again, begging anyone for help.

And then she hears it, a slow roar building in the sky.

Berger hears it too and he lifts his sword, looks up. “What the hell is that?” he asks.

**

“Last night I dreamed that Frank’s bike had wings,” Crissy says the following morning. She was quiet the entire way into the city, replaying the dream in her head over and over again. She can’t keep it in any longer and as soon as they’re settled on a bench she spills to Jeanie. “He flew in and cleared the smoke from the world and saved us all. He was amazing. Really heroic, you know?”

“Yeah?” Jeanie asks.

“And you had your baby and he was so beautiful, Jeanie,” Crissy continues. “And I don’t know – I think, maybe that’s how it’ll happen, you know? In the dream I’d given up. We’d all given up, and just then, that was when Frank appeared. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to happen. Do you think?”

“Maybe,” Jeanie hums.

“Are you listening?” Crissy asks, and then she looks up and catches sight of Claude. He’s laughing with Hud, but it looks forced and his posture is stuff. He hasn’t even noticed them, but Jeanie can’t seem to notice anything else. Crissy waves a hand in front of Jeanie’s face until eventually Jeanie blinks and turns to look at her.

“You need help,” Crissy says.

It’s been getting worse. This Claude mess. Now that Jeanie’s so far along, she isn’t going home with anyone, has just been coming home to Crissy’s most nights. She lies in Linda’s bed and she thinks about Claude. She wakes up thinking about him. She just needs someone else to think about. Someone who will lie awake thinking about _her_.

John comes to sit with them. He flops down into the grass beside Crissy and lays his head in her lap, smiles up at her. He’s so beautiful, his curls and his dark eyes, and Crissy has to consciously stop herself from leaning in and kissing him. He thinks she could do better than Frank Mills. She wonders now, just a little, if he thinks _he_ might be better for her.

“He’s so beautiful,” Jeanie says. It’s like she read Crissy’s mind.

Crissy and John both turn to look at her, but Jeanie only has eyes for Claude. John sits up, folding his legs beneath him. His shoulder bumps against Crissy’s and he rolls his eyes.

“She’s hopeless,” John sighs.

Jeanie makes a face at him before pushing herself up off the ground and going to talk to Claude. Claude’s smile is brighter when Jeanie touches his shoulder and Crissy thinks his hug lasts just a few seconds too long.

“We need to find someone for her,” Crissy says. “No one knows Jeanie better than you and me. We can find someone great for her. Just to take her mind off, you know, things.”

John laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” John says. “Things.”

“It’s getting worse, don’t you think? I thought she was getting over him and now with this draft stuff, it’s all getting worse.”

“Jeanie’ll be fine,” John says. He doesn’t say that Claude’ll be fine. He doesn’t say that he’ll be fine.

Crissy leans in and kisses his bare shoulder. They’re quiet for a long moment. Crissy keeps her mouth pressed to John’s skin while she watches Jeanie talk to Claude, pulling at his arm when he turns to laugh at Berger’s antics. Whatever Jeanie’s saying has Claude shrugging, his arms pulling up in a helpless gesture before he shakes her away. They walk off together down the path.

Crissy sighs.

John shifts and wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“She’ll be fine,” John says again.

“But don’t you think –“

“Crissy,” John interrupts. He takes one of her hands, wraps it in both of his. “ _You’re_ good for Jeanie, you know? All this stuff you’ve been doing. Her staying at your place with you and your folks. It’s good.”

“Yeah, but –“

“Come on,” John says. “Shouldn’t you be waiting for your guy? Frank? I’ll go with you if you want.”

John’s face is sincere, but it feels like he’s mocking her anyway.

“I’m being serious,” Crissy says.

“Yeah,” John nods. “Me too.”

**

They sit in front of the Waverly and they wait.

Jeanie leans back on the steps, supports her back by propping her elbows on the concrete. Her belly bulges out in front of her. It won’t be long now.

“When John’s born,” Jeanie always says. “Everything will be better when baby John is born. He’s going to change everything. You’ll see.”

“I can’t wait for the baby,” Crissy says now. She loved it when her sister’s daughter was first born. She loved having the baby around, holding her. She didn’t even mind when she cried. She’s going to help Jeanie with the baby. She’ll be there through everything. Aunt Crissy. She loves him so much already.

“You don’t think your mom is right, do you?” Jeanie asks then.

“Right about what?”

“About adoption” Jeanie says. “You don’t think I should give him up.”

“Of course not,” Crissy gasps. “You love him. You can’t give him _away_. He already has the biggest family in the entire world, Jeanie. We’re all going to help you. You know that, right? That no matter what my mother says, you’re not alone?”

“Yeah,” Jeanie says. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”

“I am,” Crissy agrees.

“You think Claude’s going to go?”

“No,” Crissy says immediately. “I don’t think he’ll go.”

“I think he might,” Jeanie sighs.

“He’ll be okay,” Crissy insists. She hears John’s voice in her head, speaking almost the same words to her just a few days ago. Crissy thinks of her sister, huddled in front of the television every night, waiting to hear news about her husband, Mitch. Every day Bobbie runs out to meet the mailman, hoping for a letter, anything to tell her that Mitch is all right. So far Bobbie’s been lucky.

She imagines Jeanie there, watching for the mail from the window of Crissy’s house. She holds her baby in her arms and she waits for news of Claude. Every day she gets thinner and nothing Crissy does can get her to leave the house except on Sunday, and then only because she knows there is no mail to wait for.

“I don’t think Frank’s coming today,” Crissy sighs.

“Yeah,” Jeanie agrees. “Do you want to get a soda?”

**

Crissy lies awake and listens to Jeanie crying softly down the hall. She thinks about the last night she cried herself to sleep, the night she lost Frank’s address. She thinks about how Jeanie came in and climbed into bed with her, how just having someone there made her feel a little bit better. Jeanie’s sniffles echo off the walls and Crissy throws her blankets aside and slips into the hallway.

**

“What are you gonna do if he never shows up?” Dionne asks. “You’re just gonna sit here until you’re thirty?”

“She’ll sit here until she’s forty,” Angela laughs. It annoys Crissy, but Angela follows it with an affectionate bump to Crissy’s shoulder, so Crissy lets it go.

They’ve been sitting with her for an hour now. It looks like it’s going to rain any second, but so far the clouds are holding on.

“It won’t take that long. He’ll show up,” Crissy says with a shrug. She leaves out the fact that every week she’s a little less sure.

“But what if he doesn’t?” Angela asks. “Are you really just going to wait here forever? I mean, it’s been weeks and weeks.”

Crissy doesn’t say anything. She pulls a petal from the daisy that Angela brought her instead. The fact that Angela’s there at all is nice. It isn’t the same with them, but it’s better. With Jeanie’s help, it’s getting better. Crissy sets her flower aside and pulls at a string hanging from her jeans instead.

“Jeanie went home last night with Hud,” Dionne says when it becomes obvious that Crissy’s just waiting for a subject change.

“Oh, good,” Crissy says.

“Yeah?” Dionne asks, her voice gentle.

“Yeah, of course” Crissy says, smiles and nods. Hud’s always liked Jeanie. Jeanie should spend more time with people who really like her.

“We thought you’d be upset,” Angela admits.

Crissy frowns, stares down at her jeans. “Why would you think that?”

She doesn’t get an answer. Before Angela can say anything else Dionne laughs and says, “Well, speak of the devil.”

Crissy looks up, smiles, expecting Jeanie. Instead she sees Hud and John approaching.

“Hey, baby,” Hud says. He wraps an arm around Dionne and sits on her lap.

John stops in front of them and takes a moment to look up and down the sidewalk. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants and then says, “No sign of Frank Mills, huh?”

There it is again.

“You’re always saying it like that,” Crissy snaps. “Frank Mills. What is your problem, anyway?”

“Crissy,” Angela says.

“No,” Crissy says, and she knows she’s close to shouting, but she really doesn’t care. “What is everyone’s problem with Frank Mills? I just want to know!”

Hud raises an eyebrow. He stands and then turns and waves to a pedestrian on the corner. The man is wearing a suit and he walks a little faster when he sees Hud waving frantically at him.

“I think I know that guy,” Hud says. “Gotta go. Catch you lovely kids later.” And then he’s off, walking fast and calling to the man in the suit.

John stares after Hud then turns back to look at Crissy, his jaw slack. Crissy crosses her arms across her chest and waits.

“Dionne and I better get going too,” Angela says after one long awkard moment. She stands and holds out a hand for Dionne. “Well, see you later Crissy. See ya, John.”

John uses their departure as an excuse to break eye contact. He shuffles his feet against the sidewalk and then moves to sit on the steps beside her.

“Why do you hate Frank Mills so much?” Crissy asks, calmer now. The thing is, Crissy is pretty sure she knows John’s reason. But she’s sick of waiting for everyone else. She thinks it’s finally time she heard John say it out loud.

“I don’t even know him,” John says. “I can’t hate someone I don’t know.”

“You say his name like you do,” Crissy says. “ _Frank Mills_. It’s like you’re jealous or something.”

Nah,” John shrugs. “I just still don’t get what it is about him. That’s all. I’m sure if I met him I’d understand, right?”

Crissy thinks he might not understand even if he did. She sighs and leans her head against his shoulder.

“Sorry I yelled,” she says.

John shrugs against her.

“Jeanie was with Hud last night,” Crissy says, because she doesn’t know what else there is to say.

John nods like he already knew. Crissy wonders if maybe he brought them together again, if maybe John really did listen to the things she said to him in the park.

It starts to rain then, a few drops at first, and then the sky opens up and it pours.

Crissy shrieks and jumps up off the steps, runs up under the awning that covers the front door.

John laughs and follows. Water shines in his hair and on his nose. He looks so much like Jeanie when he’s like this and Crissy finds herself leaning in, drawn to him. She’s up on her toes with her mouth pressed against his before she can think to stop herself.

John is still smiling as he kisses her back. After a long moment he pulls away just far enough to kiss the tip of her nose. It’s the little things like that. She loves him for them.

“What if Frank Mills showed up right now?” John asks.

‘What if he did?” Crissy says. She’s grinning at him. She probably looks like a loon, but she’s not sure she cares. “You still think I could find someone better?”

And then she gives in and kisses him again. She’s so sick of waiting. Her arms slide around his back, holding him. The rain pours down onto the steps and bounces back at them from the pavement, soaking the bottoms of their jeans. Her thigh brushes up against him and she sighs into his mouth and slides in closer. It’s not until she moves her hand, sliding it around, sliding it down toward the front of his jeans. It’s not until then that John pulls away with a start.

“Oh no, Crissy,” he says. “I didn’t mean – not me.”

“Why not you?” Crissy asks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” John says. “But you know I don’t – I can’t.”

“What?”

“I’m not the same as Berger or Hud. I’m not – “

John’s face is shutting down. His hair is still wet and it drips onto his cheeks. The water looks like tears now. Any moment his face might burst just like the clouds. And Crissy gets it now. She does. They never talk about it, but deep down she’s always known. He’s just so good to her. She thought that if she wanted it this much then John must feel it too. But Crissy gets it. He doesn’t have to say anything more.

She reaches for him and he lets her pull him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I was just being, well, you know. Me.”

He smiles and nods. He holds her tighter.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She feels like she doesn’t ask it enough.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay.”

He kisses her on the forehead and adds, “I’m going to be an uncle soon. I don’t know if you heard.”

“Yeah,” Crissy says. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

A little of the shine returns to John’s eyes and he leans in like he’s sharing a secret. “I think he’s going to be a girl.”

Crissy laughs, then stops as she watches John’s face slip from light and silly back into sad and serious.

“They act like she died, you know?” John says. “All these parents with children who really are lost, really are dying, and they sit at home mourning a daughter that’s still here. It’s all fucked, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Crissy agrees.

They lean against the building and wait for the rain to ease up.

“Thank you for taking care of Jeanie,” John says.

Crissy shrugs. “I love her.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Crissy nods.

John smiles, but it isn’t real. His face is just going through the motions.

“When my parents finally kick me out of the house for good, you think your mom’ll let me crash on your couch?”

Crissy grabs his arm, hugs it to her chest. “We’ll sneak you in through the windows if we have to.”

**

It doesn’t take long before Claude’s draft notice starts to change everything.

No one notices it at first. The change. Then Claude starts disappearing more frequently and Berger stops laughing at everything life has to offer. That’s when Crissy starts to feel it ripple through the group, affecting each and every one of them. Hud scowls like he’s mad at the world. Sheila talks on and on about revolution. Crissy hardly remembers how beautiful John is when he smiles. Dionne zones out, stares off into the trees and jumps when someone says her name. And Jeanie. Jeanie has dark circles under her eyes and she hasn’t slept at Crissy’s house in days.

Crissy’s mother asks about Jeanie every night and Crissy promises her that Jeanie’s okay, that she sees Jeanie every day, that Jeanie will come home with her one night soon.

Crissy finds her in the park, her hair tangled, knotted. Crissy reaches out and pulls a twig from Jeanie’s curls.

“Did you sleep out here?” Crissy asks.

Jeanie nods, says, “I was staring at the stars. Me and Berger, lying on the lawn. They were so bright, Crissy. You should have been here. They watched over us as we slept.”

Jeanie doesn’t have to say what Crissy already knows. Jeanie and Berger fell asleep together worrying about Claude.

“You look awful,” Crissy says.

Jeanie laughs and grabs Crissy’s arms, swings her in a circle.

“My mom’s worried about you,” Crissy adds. “She keeps asking me where you’re coming home.”

“She doesn’t even want me there,” Jeanie says.

“She just says that,” Crissy shrugs. “Anyway, I want you there. I miss you. Dionne says you’ve been staying with Hud?”

Now it’s Jeanie’s turn to shrug.

“Hud’s always been sweet on you, I think.”

“I guess,” Jeanie says.

They walk together toward midtown. They don’t really have a destination in mind, but the day is cool and breezy and the streets are quiet this early. They walk south, watch the city wake up as they pass through. Eventually they get on the subway, and before either of them can voice the plan, they’re standing in front of the Waverly. It isn’t even Tuesday.

They sit on the steps. The spot has almost become a comfort to Crissy. It grounds her somehow, sitting here with Jeanie.

“Will you come home with me tonight?” Crissy asks her. “Not because of my mother. For me?” She really does miss having Jeanie right down the hall. She misses their late night conversations. She misses the nights that Jeanie would slip into her room and curl up beside her. They didn’t have to talk. Crissy is convinced she sleeps better just having Jeanie there.

“Sure,” Jeanie says, reaching out to smooth Crissy’s hair.

Jeanie hums quietly, a Beatles song that’s always been one of her favorites.

“You know, when I first met Claude, he had me convinced for an entire day that he really was from England? I thought that was so groovy. Just like the Beatles, I thought.”

“Yeah,” Crissy says. “I know.”

“I’ll miss him,” Jeanie says.

Crissy nods. “Remember that night?” she asks. “You, me, and Claude?”

“Sure,” Jeanie says, and Crissy catches the hint of a smile as Jeanie recalls it.

“That was one of the best nights of my entire life,” Crissy admits.

“Really?” Jeanie says.

“Really.”

Jeanie is quiet for a moment before she says, “You know what? Me too.”

Crissy nods, smiles, has to turn away.

It’s not until later that Crissy realizes she spent the entire day sitting in front of the Waverly and she didn’t once think about Frank Mills.

**

“I have an idea,” Jeanie says, bursting into Crissy’s bedroom early one morning.

“Yeah?” Crissy asks.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. We’ll _go_ to Brooklyn!” Jeanne says. Her fists hit Crissy’s bed in time with her words, bouncing the mattress just a little. “We’ll go to Brooklyn and your heart will lead you right to him. You see? Just like I showed you, remember?”

“You think that will work?” Crissy asks. There doesn’t seem to be anything leading Frank to her, after all.

“Of course it will work,” Jeanie says. She grabs Crissy’s bag from her desk and tosses it to her. “Besides. What have we got to lose?”

**

Brooklyn is enormous. Crissy isn’t even sure where to start, so at Jeanie’s suggestion she shuts her eyes and sets a finger on the map. The decision is made and an hour later they’re walking the streets of Sheepshead Bay. When that doesn’t feel right, they head to Bay Ridge, then Park Slope, and by mid afternoon they’re walking aimlessly through Prospect Park.

Jeanie is talking about Claude again, already mourning him even though he’s still here. Crissy tries to concentrate on finding Frank Mills, but all she hears is Claude this and Claude that and all she can think about is poor heartsick Jeanie.

She understands. She loves Claude too, but Berger and Sheila are gonna find a way to help Claude. Crissy believes that they can do it. Anyway, Claude doesn’t want Jeanie’s help.

“He can’t love you,” Crissy says. She doesn’t mean to say it. Not out loud. She slaps a hand over her mouth and turns to face Jeanie with wide scared eyes.

Jeanie is staring back at her, a small frown on her pink lips.

“Sorry,” Crissy says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay,” Jeanie says eventually. “I know.”

But it isn’t okay. Jeanie is the best friend Crissy’s ever had. Jeanie sits on the steps of the Waverly for hours waiting for some guy who is never going to show up. She’s here now in Brooklyn on a wild goose chase, not because she cares about Frank Mills, but because she cares about Crissy and she wants Crissy to be happy.

Frank Mills doesn’t care about Crissy. Not like Jeanie does.

Claude can’t love Crissy or Jeanie but at least Claude doesn’t push Crissy away. At least Claude cares once in a while.

John loves her but doesn’t want her. It isn’t his fault.

But Frank Mills. Frank Mills should _know_ where to find her. He should be able to see into her soul, should be drawn to her aura like it’s a light to guide him through the dark. Frank just isn’t looking hard enough. Frank probably isn’t looking at all.

“What if it wasn’t really his address,” Crissy says. “What if Frank Mills isn’t even from Brooklyn?”

“Don’t say that,” Jeanie says. She holds onto Crissy’s shoulders, ready to shake some sense into her, but Crissy doesn’t need it. Crissy feels like she has some sense for the first time in a long time.

Frank doesn’t _want_ Crissy. Frank just wanted two stupid dollars and he’s smart. He knows a sucker when he sees one. Angela’s been right all along. Frank doesn’t want Crissy just like Claude will never want Jeanie. Crissy and Jeanie, they’re exactly alike. Except that Claude is still here. Crissy can hardly remember what Frank looks like now. She tries to remember and all she sees is Jeanie’s blonde hair, Jeanie’s smile, Jeanie walking toward her with her eyes closed over and over again.

Frank and Claude and John, none of them want her. But Jeanie’s been there on the steps of the Waverly almost every day with Crissy. Jeanie sang in the park so that Crissy could patch things with Angela. Jeanie stroked her hair when she cried and snuck into her room at night so that they could laugh and talk into the morning. She puts up with Crissy’s mother even though they both know that Jeanie doesn’t _have_ to stay.

Crissy’s palms are sweating and she thinks of every fantasy she’s ever had. Frank finding her sitting in Claude’s window, lying in a field of flowers with John while he tells her how much he loves her. Frank again, this time simply showing up at the Waverly like he promised. She thinks of all of her fantasies but this time it’s Jeanie she sees in all of them. Jeanie finding her at Claude’s and caring only about her, not even looking at Claude, not even once. Lying in the grass with Jeanie and laughing at the shape of the clouds. Jeanie singing to her on the steps of the Waverly.

“Jeanie,” Crissy gasps, turning toward her, feeling something in her chest jump when Jeanie’s eyes meet hers.

“What is it?” Jeanie asks.

Crissy’s face feels flushed and Jeanie’s expression is concerned. She reaches out for Crissy, a hand on Crissy’s arm. Crissy shifts so that Jeanie’s hand slides into hers instead. Jeanie’s hand is small and warm. Crissy takes a step closer, then one more until Jeanie’s round belly is the only thing separating them.

“Are you all right?” Jeanie asks. “Is it Frank? Can you feel him?”

Crissy shakes her head and closes her eyes. “Spin me around,” she says.

She feels Jeanie’s hands on her, moving her until Crissy is no longer sure which way is which.

“Okay,” Crissy says. She takes a deep breath. “Go stand somewhere and don’t move, okay?”

“You’re going to find Frank,” Jeanie says, the words close to Crissy’s ear. “I know it.” She kisses Crissy’s cheek and then she’s gone, the warmth of her replaced by a rush of crisp winter air.

Crissy doesn’t think it can really work, but she moves, she takes a step forward and she listens to the trees of Brooklyn. She hears people chatting. A dog barks. She doesn’t hear Jeanie anywhere but she keeps walking anyway. The grass beneath her feet becomes a path and she takes a right, walks until she’s no longer on the pavement. She stops again, knows it’s only a matter of time before she walks right into a tree, before she makes a complete fool of herself.

She takes one last left and walks right into Jeanie.

“Oh,” she says.

“Sorry,” Jeanie says. “I should have – here, let’s try it again, okay?”

Crissy’s heart is thumping hard in her chest.

“I don’t want you to move out of my way,” Crissy says, forcing the words out despite the drumming in her throat. “Just stand somewhere, but don’t move.”

Jeanie is already gone and Crissy starts walking again. Straight forward and this time she nearly does hit a tree. Her knees brush some shrubs and she reaches out and feels the bark a foot in front of her. She turns around completely, walks back the way she came, right back to Jeanie.

“You sure you don’t want me to move out of the way?” Jeanie asks.

“No,” Crissy says. Her face is warm and she knows she’s flushed. Her cheeks must match her hair by now. But it doesn’t matter. Right now there’s only one thing that does. She takes Jeanie’s hand, holds in it her own. “Don’t you see? It _works_. It’s not Frank, Jeanie, it’s _you_. I love you!”

“I love you too, Crissy,” Jeanie says. She grips Crissy’s hand tighter, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t get what Crissy’s trying to say. Crissy will have to show her.

Crissy leans closer, her eyes on Jeanie’s mouth. Jeanie’s breath picks up a little, her lips part and she says, “Are you going to kiss me?”

Crissy looks up from Jeanie’s mouth. Jeanie’s eyes are dark.

“Can I?” Crissy asks. She feels scared suddenly. She worries that she’s feeling the wrong things again, and she tries to pull away, thinks maybe she can still take it back, but Jeanie reaches for her, holds on to her shoulders, won’t let her leave.

Jeanie closes her eyes and holds tight to Crissy’s arms. Crissy can tell that Jeanie understands now. Crissy can tell that she wasn’t wrong. Jeanie won’t let go of Claude easily. It took months for Crissy to give up on Frank Mills and she only met him once for ten minutes. Jeanie’s loved Claude for a long time. But someday Jeanie will realize that Crissy’s been here through it all, that whatever happens with Claude, Crissy will still be here, she’ll hold Jeanie’s hand through anything that comes their way. Claude probably won’t ever love Jeanie, but Crissy’s loved her all along.

“Crissy?” Jeanie asks. Her eyes are still closed, her lips parted just a little.

“Yeah?” Crissy says.

“What are you waiting for?”

Crissy laughs and leans in again and this time she doesn’t stop, keeps moving closer until finally their lips meet. Jeanie’s hands find their way into her hair and Crissy’s slide down Jeanie’s sides, settle against her stomach. She parts her lips and Jeanie follows and when their mouths touch again her heart races and she knows that Jeanie can see right into her soul.


End file.
